


A Love That Can Last A War

by melatonintea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Femlock, Johnlock - Freeform, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1321300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melatonintea/pseuds/melatonintea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barely a week after John leaves for the army, Sherlock finds out she is pregnant with is child. He is enlisted for a year, and when he is unable to come home, Sherlock must face the situation on her own until he returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's All Been a Blur

**Author's Note:**

> So, this chapter is just kind of setting the stage for the story, giving a bit of background to the plot. I do hope you all like it!

**April 5th.**

 

"I still don't see why you have to leave," Sherlock sighs. 

John sighed at the question, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's bare curled up form. It was two in the morning, and they laid under the duvet in her small flat after a good shag. Sherlock was curled into his side, and he kept his arms around her gently, but protectively. "Sherlock, love, I told you. I don't have the money to pay for university expenses. I'll be gone a year working as a doctor, not even on the front lines. I will come back to you," he said for the hundredth time.

"You know my family could easily-" She was cut off short.

"No, Sherlock. I told you already, I won't accept their money. One year. All of my uni expenses cleaned away, and a guaranteed job when I return home," he explained and kissed her cheek. Sherlock flipped over, facing the wall and away from John, eventually falling asleep for awhile in that position.

She sulked like that for three days.

 

**April 28th.**

 

"And you promise to write back every time that you can, and Skype me when possible?"

"I promise, Sherlock."

"And you'll be safe as possible?"

"I promise, Sherlock, love."

John zipped up his suitcase and rolled it next to his packed up duffle bag and backpack that were right next to the door, ready for the next morning. He moved to the dresser where Sherlock was perched, swinging her legs. She is scooped up into his arms and taken to bed, where the couple makes meaningful love, and then curls up in a terrible silence.

 

**April 29th- 3:30 am.**

 

"You can't go! You can't leave me here!" Sherlock sobs, sitting up in bed with her duvet pulled off of John and wrapped tightly around herself. In the faint light of the moon coming in through the curtains, John can see the streaks of tears flowing down her face and making her eyes gleam. "John, you can't do this!" 

And John reaches for her tentatively, gathering her trembling body into his arms and rocking back and forth, hushing her gently. "I will come back in one piece," he promises. And Sherlock falls asleep like that, holding onto the love of her life for the last night.

 

**April 29th- 9am.**

 

The cab ride to the train station was deafeningly silent. If anything, too silent. They both stared out the window, hands clasped together for possibly the last time. Sherlock had hope, of course, and was glad he would never be on the front lines, but she was already sick with worry. War wasn't safe, no matter where you were. John squeezed her hand, feeling the nervousness in her sweaty palm. 

The cab halted to a stop, and she paid the cabbie with shaking hands, frozen and unable to step out of the cab, until John took her hand, pulling her out gently. He was in normal clothing, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and his hand firmly holding hers as they walked to the platform he would be leaving from.

 They had already said their good-byes, but it wasn't enough.

"John, I-"

"Sherlock, no more, okay? This is hard enough. Darling, I will be home before you know it. I will be home for Christmas, and you know that."

"That's too-"

"I know, love. I know it's too long. But you know what, one year. Next spring, we will be on this platform again, but for the last time. I will be here, for good. And the, we will start our permanent lives together."

Sherlock opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Tears trailed down her face and she couldn't move, until the final call for boarding was made. It was then that she flung herself back at John, almost knocking him over, and pressing her face in his shoulder. John couldn't hold back the tears, and wrapped his arms tightly around her, swaying them and cooing softly in between his own quiet sobs.

"One year, 'Lock. I love you, okay? Okay? Don't you dare forget that! Skype and email, okay? I'll write. Sherlock, I love you!" he crammed everything to say in at once, but it still didn't feel like enough. The couple pressed their lips together, at least a minute long kiss, both afraid to part. 

Finally John did, straightening his back and letting go of her, besides her hand.

"I love you, John Watson. Come back in one piece."

"I love you Sherlock Holmes. Take care of yourself, darling."

And John Watson kissed her hand, tears dripping, and then turned, boarding the train to take him away from the love of his life.

Though she felt her strength wearing away, she sat at the bench to watch him leave the station. He caught her attention from his seat window and she waved back weakly, the pang of sadness already kicking in.  _Gone._ She  murmured to herself.  _Gone, out of my reach._ Her chest ached as the train started up and she shook her head, scrunching her face. Sherlock suddenly stood, reaching up for John, up towards his window. As the train began to move, she started to move with it- jogging to keep up. "John!" she cried, tears falling. And when the train went too fast, she dropped to her knees and sobbed. Five, ten, fifteen minutes went by, people passing by her and giving her a sideways glance, but she didn't care.

There was suddenly a large and strong hand on Sherlock's back, pulling her up by the sweatshirt. "Sister dear, pull yourself together," Mycroft's voice sounded from behind her and she turned to bury her face in his chest. This, of course, didn't take him by surprise. Their parents were hard to live with, rich and protective, and sometimes they only had each other. Mycroft was there for Sherlock to fall back on. And this time, he promised John that he wouldn't let her back on drugs. "Come now, sister. I'll take you back to my home and we'll have some tea. You'll stay for a few days, no arguments."

And Sherlock didn't argue when Mycroft was able to pick her weak body up and carry her to his long, black car. _He didn't carry her like John did_ , she thought suddenly.  _John would hold me against his chest with my legs around him. Mycroft carries me with an arm around my shoulders and one under my knees- not loving like John, simply to transport me..._

She was pulled from her thoughts and set in the car, driven to Mycroft's lovely home on the outskirts of London, where she politely sipped tea, refused any form of food, and sobbed in bed for two days straight.

 

**June 2nd - (6 weeks)**

 

Sherlock laid in bed on a lazy Monday morning, glad for the fact that she didn't have a job yet that she was skipping.  _Thank God for rich parents who love and pity you,_ she thought and sighed, rolling out of bed and turning on the shower. This would be the second period that she missed, if she did miss it. Last month, she pushed it off and figured she'd missed it because of stress. John had left over a month ago, and she was still feeling the effects of loneliness. Everyday was a blur and weeks went by unnoticed. Today she was to look for a job at Scotland Yard. Since she heard that Greg had been working there, and doing well no less, she thought maybe she would have a good chance at finding a small job, just to take her mind off things for a bit. It wasn't like she needed the money, anyway.

_What if..._

Sherlock tried to push the what if's out of her mind as she stood under the pulsing hot water, but the same one kept creeping it's way back into her head and making her heart momentarily stop.  _I cannot possibly be pregnant. I would have deduced it right away._ She told herself this over and over again. But by the time she was out of the shower and wrapped in her dressing gown, she wasn't convinced.

_What if I didn't deduce it right away..._

Now was not the time to be doubting your abilities, she scolded herself and got dressed, putting her hair up and sorting herself out. She needed to stop at the Yard and drop off her job application- she found that she was over qualified for a small position on the team, and then she would...

_One test wouldn't hurt..._

No, she told herself again. But soon, she was sitting and looking at her flat stomach, wondering. She had gained a bit of weight, but put that off as stress as well. And finally, she nodded to herself, fixing up her makeup. She would take the test.

 

**June 2nd- 2:30pm.**

 

Greg had met her at the Yard and taken her application, telling her that she had good prospects, and would most likely find herself with some type of job at the Yard. He then took her out for tea, chatting casually and then about John and how she was doing. She told him that she was doing much better than she really was, because for God's sake, she needed the job.

And then it was off to Tesco's for a pregnancy test... or two. She also picked up a jar of peanut butter (why in the world did that sound good?) and a gallon of cranberry juice so that she could take the home tests.

 

**June 2nd- 5:13pm.**

 

A gallon of cranberry juice later, Sherlock had retreated to the bathroom with the two pregnancy tests in hand. Once she had done one of the most awkward things in her life, she sat on the counter, waiting for results and humming. She didn't want to even begin to think about what she would do if the results were a positive. Doctor's appointment for one, but what about John? And the job? Scolding herself for letting her mind wander, she began to pace the floor, waiting until the results would show up on the two sticks.

Of course her and John would eventually want children. After they were married and had a steady life, they would start a family. They talked about this all the time, nut it was never suppose to happen like this. He was supposed to be home when it happened, and watch his family grow and be there to help and support Sherlock.. not a million miles away in a battlefield. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, out of the corner if her eye, she noticed that something had shown up on the two tests. Taking a step closer, she saw it. The two little pink plus signs. Suddenly, she felt faint and sat down on the closed toilet, trying to catch her breath back.

_Pink.. Plus... Pregnant..._

Sherlock's heart raced and she leaned against the wall, letting a few tears fall as she her mind spun in circles, trying desperately to process the information. Thoughts ran back and forth, unclear in her mind and unable to be sorted out. But one question stuck out in her head.

_..What would John say?_

 

 

 

 


	2. Getting On With Things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Sherlock to tell her brother, and most importantly to tell John about her pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I am truly sorry about the wait for a second chapter to this fic. I honestly lose motivation over time to keep writing, and need encouragement. And I didn't think this fic in particular was very successful. But a few wanted me to continue, so here's chapter two. No promises, but I'll try to get another chapter up by this time next week. 
> 
> Happy Reading! Xx

**June 3rd- 8:30am.**

 

Sherlock wasn't one to go to bed early, or sleep much, but since yesterday, she hadn't wanted to do much else other than sleep. And when she wasn't asleep, she was crying or laying and simply staring at the ceiling. It was all she could do. Thoughts constantly raced about what she would do and when she should see a doctor and what she should and shouldn't be eating and  _John._

Surely, John would need to know about this sooner or later. It wasn't as though he could do anything about it, and that's what hurt Sherlock the most, but he should know that he was a father. John wouldn't be home for another eleven months at the least, and she wasn't sure he would even be home for Christmas. When she cried, she imagined him there with his hand on her back and stroking her hair. Now, there was nothing.

By noon, Sherlock still hadn't moved. The home phone had rang, and her mobile was making noise almost constantly. She knew it was her brother, wondering how she was or if she'd eaten or if she'd done the shopping or turned in her job application, ect... He was just worried, and she was glad to have someone looking out after her.

Turning her face into her pillow and groaning, Sherlock went back to sleep.

 

**June 3rd- 4:45pm.**

 

There was a firm knock on the door, and Sherlock was still asleep, so the elder Holmes resorted to letting himself into the flat. "Dear, you know I hate it when you don't answer my phone calls or texts. I just want to make sure you're-" he stopped abruptly as he walked down the hall to his sister's bedroom. She was asleep. It was almost five in the evening, and she was curled up in bed, snoring away.

This was rare. This was odd. This was  _unheard of._

"Sherlock?" Mycroft asked softly, moving to sit on the bed near her curled up legs.

Sherlock woke up to the dip in her bed and frowned up at her brother as she rubbed her eyes. "What do you want? I've been ignoring you for a reason. One that just happens to be that I don't want to see anyone," she mumbled sleepily.

Mycroft sighed and put his hand gently on her blanket covered ankle. "Love, I know you're going through a lot, but you always answer your phone," he pointed out. "Tell me what's bothering you and then I'll leave."

Sherlock considered this. She knew that at some point she would have to tell someone, and she'd rather tell them than have them find out the hard way. Besides, her brother was good at dealing with things, wasn't he? He always had been able to figure out how to fix things for him and his sister. So Sherlock sat up in her bed, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

"You're not back on anything, are you?" he asked cautiously.

"No, no.. Definitely not that."

"Then what is it, Sherlock? You know you can trust me.."

Sherlock bit down hard on her lip and nodded. "I'm pregnant," she said and covered her hand with her mouth. "I only found out yesterday, but I must be over a month pregnant and I'm so sorry I didn't tell you right away but I've been so scared," she said hurriedly, her eyes watering for the millionth time.

Mycroft blinked at his sister in surprise, because this wasn't at all what he expected to be her news. He expected that she was back smoking or on drugs, or that she simply missed John more than usual. But this.. This was completely different. Sherlock was _pregnant._ Gently, he gathered his sister into his arms and held her close. She was still so fragile ad tiny that it was hard to believe that there was another living thing inside her.

"Hush, Sherlock.. Shh, my dear sister. It will all be okay, there's no need to cry," he tried to soothe her, but this situation was such a mystery to him. "Do you plan on keeping it?"

Sherlock looked up at him in disbelief that he would ask such a thing. "Of course I am going to keep it, Mycroft. There's no way in the world that I can get rid of it. It's over a whole month old, isn't it?" she said and rubbed some tears away.

The government official nodded and kissed his sister's curly matted hair. "Okay, well.. I'm going to figure things out for you tonight, okay? But for now, I want you to take a long bath. I'll pick up some dinner and drop it off for you, then I want you to relax on the sofa and then have a good sleep tonight. I'll be back tomorrow morning to talk."

Sherlock nodded and slowly climbed out of her brother's lap with a sigh. "Okay. Okay," she said. And with that, Mycroft excused himself.

 

**June 4th- 8:30am.**

Sherlock had gotten up that morning after a relaxing evening, and went through her daily morning routine. She took a shower and attempted to tame her curly mess of hair, she made her bed and got dressed, read through the few letters she'd received from John, and watched some telly until her brother arrived.

Mycroft showed up at almost nine in the morning, setting his umbrella by the door and taking a seat at the two person dining table as his sister joined him. "You look like hell. Did you sleep at all? Sherlock questioned as she sat down with two mugs of tea. Mycroft rolled his eyes and set a tan folder on the table as well as a full bag of things.

"I slept last night for a few hours, it's fine," he said and patted Sherlock's hand. "But this is all more important. So allow me to explain?"

Sherlock nodded and sat back as he opened the folder, picking up a stack of papers. "Alright, then. First of all, here I have a calendar of the doctor's appointments you will have that I scheduled with the best obstetrician around. Of course you'll be able to make more or cancel depending on your plans, but it's a basic outline. Your first appointment is tomorrow morning. Next I have a few lists, things that you can't eat and drink, to things that are best for the baby. There's a few other things in here that you might want to read about pregnancy. The most important thing I have in here though, was a fax I've received from John. It's the list of dates that he will be able to Skype call you, and the times that he will do so. The first one is next week, so if you write a letter tonight, it'll be there for him to read before the call," Mycroft explained all of this to her carefully, and Sherlock tried to keep up and absorb all of the information, nodding at the last bit with a nervous smile.

"Alright, moving on," he said with a reassuring smile to his sister. "I did a bit of shopping this morning so that you can rest for the day if you chose to do so. There's decaffeinated tea bags, your prenatal vitamins that you need to start taking, and a salad and iced tea in there for your dinner."

Sherlock smiled and stood up, wrapping her arms around Mycroft, the older sibling smiling and hugging back. "Thank you so much, Mycroft. This all means so much to me," she whispered.

He nodded and smiled back up at her. "Of course, it's the least I can do. I figure that this flat will have to do for now. But I was looking into a possible flat for sale on Baker Street. The landlady is an old friend of mother's and would offer a great deal for you. It's a two bedroom, and you'd be able to paint a nursery the way you like."

Sherlock thanked him again, and they chatted for a while before he announced that he had to run for an important meeting, but he'd check in.

 

**June 4th- 6:00pm.**

Sherlock sat down at the desk in the office room of her flat, and set a piece of paper in front of herself, holding the pen and tapping it on the desk, debating a way to tell John. They exchanged a letter a week, and if she sent this one the next morning, his letter in response wouldn't arrive until after their first Skype call. So this is how she would have to tell her boyfriend that she was pregnant, and she would see his response face to face.

 

My dearest John,

                                It hasn't barely been a week since our last letter back and forth, but so much has happened that I must tell you about, including some big news. The other day I applied for a job where Greg works, at New Scotland Yard, and he tells me that I have good prospects of getting a job there for at least part-time to be able to get my mind off things. Without a job to occupy me, I'm pretty much in bed all of the time. I hope that you've been well still, and are at least happy. I know you told me that you've made good friends, and that makes me so relieved. I'd hate you to be alone there. Mycroft has just dropped by the fax you sent with all of our Skype calls for the next few months, and I must say that was one of the highlights of my week. He was also adamant that I must not miss the first call next week, (not that I would anyway), but it makes me curious as to why it seems more important than any other call.. Anyway, I miss you a lot. I was at the park by myself the other day, and almost caught myself deducing the people out loud. That would've been embarrassing!

                           As promised, I have some big news to share with you, love. I really hope that you are happy about the news. I suppose that overall I am thrilled with it, but mostly scared. And it occurred to me now that I haven't even told you what the news is yet. It's rather hard to say in a letter, but I'm pregnant. Yes, I'm about a month pregnant with our baby, and am terrified. Before I send this is my first maternity appointment, and I suppose over our Skype call I can let you know how it goes. Please don't be too upset.

                                                                          With the most love possible,

                                                                                                                      your dearest Sherlock.

                                                                                                                               


	3. Big News and Big Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets to video call John for the first time, where the couple each have big announcements of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry that I put this on the shelf for awhile. I've been quite busy and had some writer's block and period of laziness. Do forgive me and continue reading, and spread the word of this fic! This chapter is rather short, but I truly promise to get another out very very soon.
> 
> Happy Reading! Xx

**June 13th- 5:45 p.m.  
**

 

Sherlock had moped about the flat for the past week, still absorbing the fact that her stomach would be growing with another human being inside of it, and her nerves were constantly anxious about what John would say when they would talk face to face. This Friday morning, though, Sherlock had woken up with the knowledge that their first Skype call would be that very evening, so she took special care to get ready and fix her hair. She still wore her pajamas, wrapped up in one of her silk navy blue dressing gowns, and nervously paced the living room until evening approached and she turned on her laptop, logging onto Skype.

At 5:52 on the dot, the words "Incoming call from John Watson, accept or deny?" popped up. With a grin, she pressed accept and sat back on the sofa with her computer on her lap. It took an agonizingly long moment for the internet to load, before John's tan face appeared on the screen.

"John!" Sherlock couldn't help but tear up and grin with excitement.

"Oh, my Sherlock," John whispered. He was clad in sweatpants and an army green teeshirt, smiling from ear to ear at the very sight of his girlfriend. The couple sat there for minutes just basking in the company of one another face to face for the first time since that last moment at the train station.

But soon enough, Sherlock was the first one to break the silence. "So, did you get my letter?" She asked, biting her lip.

John raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, love. I haven't checked my mail today. Shall I now?" He inquired, and when she nodded rapidly, he stood and looked on his desk to find the letter Sherlock had sent a week ago. On the screen, he noticed Sherlock blush after telling him to open and read it right there. He nodded, sitting back and beginning to read the letter that held such big news. Sherlock memorized each expression his face made, leading up to the final look of shock when his smile faded and his eyes widened. For a moment, she was afraid he was upset over the news, but she had to let the shock set in.

"Y-you're.. You.. You're p-p-pregnant?" John stammered, finally glancing up.

"I.. Well, yes. I found out on June 2nd, so I haven't known for very long, and I must say that it took me longer than usual to process the information. Also, I expected you to read the letter before you called me, but I guess this works too. Are you mad?" She said at a rapid pace, anxiety evident.

"Sherlock.. My lovely Sherlock, how could I be mad over this? Of course it isn't the way that we planned, but love, I'm going to be a father," John said, a smile creeping up on his lips. "I'm thrilled! Oh dear, this is wonderful.."

Sherlock let out a breath of relief and allowed herself to smile just as happily as John did on her laptop screen. "Really? Oh, I was so worried..." She didn't mention how scared she was, or how she wished he was home to hug her, or anything like that, because she knew that he already could tell.

John sniffled suddenly, his eyes watering with tears. "Oh, I'm just so happy," he whispered, his hands over his mouth as he admired her. "I'll have to see that belly of yours in pictures and on our video calls, okay?" He said, "and you'll have to mail me pictures of the ultrasounds and everything."

She laughed and nodded. "Of course I will. And the doctor says that the baby is healthy and now seven weeks old. I'm having terrible morning sickness.." She filled him in on all of the news, before they both fell into a comfortable and blissful silence.

"Oh! I've almost forgotten!" John exclaimed suddenly, pulling Sherlock from her happy daze.

"What have you almost forgotten?" Sherlock asked with a playful smile, wrapping a blanket around herself.

"I had something important to ask you.. I'm not quite sure how I could have forgotten.. Well, your news distracted me." John fiddled in his sweatpants pocket until he came across a small box. "Now I know that we are hundreds of miles away from each other, and it's hard to really do this, but I still had to." John proceeded to stand up and adjust his laptop, bend down on one knee and open the tiny box up. "Sherlock Holmes, when I return from this battle, will you do the honor of marrying me?" He asked with a small smile.

All that Sherlock could do was let out a gasp, her hand covering her mouth. "John! I... I..." she stammered and blinked. "Yes!" Her eyes filled with tears once again and she laughed while she watched him sigh in relief and stand, letting her see the beautiful diamond ring.

"Thank god," he said, settling in his chair, unable to stop grinning. "I bought this ring before I left in hopes of doing this on our first Skype call, and it looked like it worked."

"We're engaged," Sherlock breathed, her hand on the screen.

John matched his hand over hers, nodding. "So it seems."

 

**June 13th- 11p.m.**

 

The newly engaged couple had spent more time on Skype than was necessary, basking in the bliss of being engaged and happy to be expecting a baby by next January. But the goodbye once it became late was a tearful one, and John reminded her that he would call her at the end of June. They could barely say goodbye, blowing bleary-eyed kisses and closing their laptops to end the call.

Sherlock knew she should be happy, but tears flowed anyway as she decided to sleep on the sofa that night, (though her back would regret it tomorrow). She went to sleep with wet cheeks and a warm heart, and little did she know, John had woken his army mates just to announce that he was a groom-to-be and a father-to-be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment any ideas that you all have for this fic, and I will read them!


	4. Home Isn't Home Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock moves into her new flat, but it isn't the same without John there to share it with.

**June 30th- 8 a.m.**

 

Mycroft arrived early on a Monday morning, letting himself into the flat and gently shaking his younger sister to wake her up. "You're moving," he announced. In response, Sherlock groaned, not really processing the information, and shoved her face under her pillow, begging for a few more hours of sleep to satisfy her exhaustion. He rolled his eyes and thought about opening her curtains to rouse her, but knew it was pointless when it was a stormy summer day with no sun to annoy her. "Come on, Sherlock. Time to get up. There's things to discuss."

With another low and long groan, Sherlock sat up in bed and reached for her robe before standing up and tying it around herself. "Fine. I'm up. Now what's this moving that you're talking about?" she asked with a yawn as she walked toward the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of juice. 

"You're moving. I've gotten you a new flat, one that will fit both you and the new baby. Two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Do you remember Mrs. Hudson?" Mycroft said.

"You mean the Mrs. Hudson that used to babysit for us?" Sherlock asked between sips. "If so, yes."

"Yes, her. Well she's a landlady now. She owns a few flats down on Baker Street. I have gotten a special deal for you. Though it isn't too expensive, I'll be helping pay for it and everything. Move in is next week," he explained to her. 

Sherlock took a deep breath and smiled, nodding. How could she ever repay her brother for doing all that he was doing for her now? She was nervous, of course she was, and she was too young to figure things out on her own. She was missing John too much half the time to even get out of bed. She was thankful to have a brother who took care of her the way he did. "Thank you so much, Mycroft. I can't thank you enough. I suppose I'll get to packing," she said and buttered the toast she'd stuck in the toaster. 

Mycroft looked on proudly, thrilled that she was developing normal eating habits and staying on schedule so the baby would be healthy. "You are very welcome. If you need help packing, please let me know. No heavy lifting, okay?"

Sherlock nodded simply and sat at the table, opening the morning paper and beginning to skim. 

"Well, I'm off to a meeting. I will see you soon." He stood, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's forehead before heading towards the door.

"Mhm."

 

**July 2nd- 10 a.m.**

 

"Oh, hey Greg," Sherlock answered the phone that morning as she packed boxes of kitchen utensils and pots and pans.

"Hey, Sherlock. How is everything?"

"Lonely and boring, but I can't complain too much.. I'm packing up my flat. My brother's found me a new one."

"That's fantastic! A new place for John when he gets back, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess. What's up?"

"Oh! I called to let you know that you've gotten the job! For now, you'll just be doing office work, papers and filing and secretarial. You can accompany me on cases and take notes for me once in awhile, but mostly my office worker."

"Really? That's so great. Thank you so much, Greg! When do I start?" 

"July 21st. I know that's a few weeks away."

"That's fine. I will be there."

"I'm counting on you."

"I know."

*end call*

 

**Later**  

 

Sherlock walked through the grocery store, picking up some fresh vegetables and noodles to make a stir fry for dinner that night, when she got to thinking. Deep down, she knew that she really should have mentioned to Greg that she was pregnant. At the last month or two, she knew she wouldn't be able to work very much. And she knew that once the baby was born, she probably wouldn't even consider work until John was back.

 While picking out some yogurts and fruit, she also thought about how she didn't need an extra load of stress on her back while she was pregnant. Being alone and moving and being pregnant in itself was stressing her out enough, so did she really need a job?

No, she did need it, she thought to herself. She loved to solve mysteries, and she could only work her way up the ladder to become a detective if she started small with an office job, working for Greg. Sherlock smiled to herself as she paid, knowing she was making the right decision.

 

**July 5th- 9p.m.**

 

Sherlock had packed up the office room. She'd packed the bathroom up into a few boxes. She'd packed up the kitchen, except for things to eat and things that stayed in the fridge. The living room was all packed and ready to be moved to the new flat. But she'd waited until last to pack up her and John's bedroom. For one, she needed to have her clothes and most essential things unpacked until the last moment. But on the other hand, she didn't want to admit to herself that she didn't want to have to go through John's things and pack them up.

It started out so easily. She went through and packed the nightstand into a box and her dresser of clothes into another. The closet wasn't bad either, there was only a few things of John's left in there. But then she had to move to the other side of the room to pack up his dresser and nightstand. Going through his dresser was tough. She packed away the clothes that he hadn't taken- the jeans and nice button down shirts neatly folded, the pajamas and old extra teeshirts. Sherlock laughed softly when she came across one of her favorite shirts of his, a grey v-neck with holes in the back and a red stain where she had leaned to kiss him and knocked over his juice. It was still soft and smelled of John, so she slipped it on. taking a deep breath of his scent and feeling an ache in her chest and belly.

Toughening up, Sherlock moved to the hardest part- his nightstand. She sat criss crossed in front of it with a box and started to pack it up. She found the usual things, including a box of condoms, (ironic), and his extra pair of reading glasses. She flipped through his old journal that was filled on every page, smiling at his loopy handwriting. Next, she picked up an old crumpled package of cigarettes. She teared up upon recognizing them. They were the box from when he had first found out that she smoked when they were seventeen, and he had raided her dresser until he found this box and took it away from her.

In the bottom of the drawer, she found a stack of paper clipped photos. Looking through them, Sherlock saw a few of her as a baby that he'd taken from her house, a few of her as a little girl and teenager. There was a few from when they'd met as teenagers, some from high school, from a formal dance, from graduation, from university and graduation from university. Tears were already sliding down her cheeks when she picked up the last item. A seemingly useless receipt, until she looked closer. The receipt, dated a few weeks before he left, was from a jewelry store, and was for an engagement ring. Stapled to the back was a receipt to return the ring and a note in John's loopy handwriting. 'In case I don't make it back, here's the gift receipt. Get the money back from the ring. I love you. -John.' 

Sherlock couldn't handle packing. She laid on the floor with the note and sobbed. 

She slept the rest of the night that way.

 

**July 6th- 10 a.m.**

 

Sherlock was sick. It was mainly just bad morning sickness, but she didn't want to move. She had woken up that morning still on the floor and had to make a run for the bathroom in order to not be sick all over the packed boxes. She left everything how it was and rolled into bed, sending a short text to her brother and going back to sleep.

I am done packing. Need you to finish. Can't go through John's things. Sick in bed today. -SH

 

**11:30 a.m.**

 

Barely an hour and a half later was Mycroft there, sitting Sherlock up in bed and helping her to sip down a cup of tea and munch on half a piece of toast. But there was tears on her cheeks and her stomach churned at the thought of food and she pushed her brother away gently after a few tries to eat.

The older Holmes sighed and continued to pack up John's things into a few boxes. He stacked the cardboard boxes in the living room ready to be transported to Baker Street later that week.

Even though he had important things to do, Mycroft shed his suit coat and slipped off his shoes, sitting against the headboard of his sister's bed and pulling her against him, letting her sleep and then cry into his lap as he ran fingers though her curly mess of hair.

 

**7:00 p.m.**

 

Mycroft slipped out of his sister's bed and pulled his coat and shoes on, picking up his umbrella. He pressed a kiss to the side of her cheek and pushed some hair back before leaving the flat silently and shook his head, upset by her pain.

 

**July 8th- 6 a.m.**

 

Sherlock knew that it was too early to be awake. Much too early. But her brother had shown up an hour earlier and finished last minute packing before starting to load up the truck that his men had rented. The furniture was all loaded up and taken over to the new flat first. And now that Sherlock was up, she was over at the flat, supervising where the men placed the furniture- the sofa and table in the living space, the bed and nightstands and dressers in the master bedroom, the table and chairs in the kitchen. Mycroft helped bring the rest of the boxes to the new flat to be unpacked. 

The landlady was still one of the nicest people that Sherlock knew, having known her since she was a little girl and both her and her brother had needed a babysitter while their parents were away. She was making a nice meal for the pregnant Sherlock since she would be too busy to make her own dinner, but she swore that she was simply her landlady, and not her housekeeper.

The previous night, Sherlock had a Skype call with John where she gave the new address and had a good cry over leaving the flat she had picked out with him, but he had to assure her that this new start would be perfect for their new baby and for him to come home to.

"No, no, my experiment things go in the kitchen!" she cried as she followed men with boxes around, her hands on her hips. This would have been much easier if Mycroft let her lift boxes, but her current condition wouldn't allow it.

 

**6:00 p.m.**

 

Sherlock groaned as she collapsed into her bed early that evening. There was a faint buzz of London outside her window, and she had enjoyed a meal of stew and fresh homemade bread with her brother and Mrs. Hudson before finishing unpacking her bedroom and bathroom. She started work the next day and needed sleep.

Sniffling and smiling softly, she picked up her stuffed light brown bear dressed in an army uniform with the word 'Watson' sewn onto the back. She had come home to it sitting on her bed the day John had left. Sherlock slid under the covers, one hand on her flat stomach, the other curled around the bear and holding it to her chest.

"Things will get better," she whispered before drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I need some encouragement. Am I even doing good with this fic? I really love it, but does anyone else? Please be honest..


	5. Routines and Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock begins to find a routine, but morning sickness disagrees with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, again, sorry for the delay. Time slipped away, hope you all are still interested. Please comment some ideas that you guys have or things that you would like to see. It'd help a lot!

**July 20th**

 

A routine had been developed on Baker Street by this time, and Sherlock was getting the hang of things. She got up every morning, made sure to have a healthy breakfast and somehow, there was always a steaming kettle ready for tea on the counter. She would shower, take care of herself. On Fridays, she did the shopping, on Saturdays she went to the park and took something to eat, just as she had done with John. Sundays were spent indoors, relaxed. Sherlock did experiments, after thoroughly making sure that they were completely safe for the growing baby. The previous week had seen a Skype call from John, where she had held the laptop and carried it through the new flat, showing him each and every detail. Life was going smoothly so far.

There was morning sickness, copious amounts of it, actually. Sherlock woke practically every morning, around four in the morning, with nausea and vomiting that internet medical sites had promised was completely normal.

 

**5 p.m.**

 

On this given Monday though, Sherlock's nausea had continued throughout the day and she was forced to stay indoors, confined to the sofa. She was sure it had nothing to do with the baby, but more importantly the job that she was set to begin tomorrow morning.

Working for Greg would be a breeze, she assured herself that much, but he was not aware that she was pregnant. What if he had her lift something heavy? What if he took her out for a pint after her first day? Those things could easily be avoided, but if she told him that she was expecting, what if he gave away the job to someone else?

These thoughts kept creeping up on Sherlock and finally she had enough. She picked up the phone and dialed Greg's number, knowing he probably wasn't busy. There was a lack of cases lately.

"Hey, Sherlock," he answered on the third ring, "ready to start work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. I just had to discuss something."

"Of course, what is it?"

"You won't have me doing anything straining, will you? No strenuous activity?"

"I doubt it, mostly desk work, as I said. You can accompany me on cases that interest you and help me out. Nothing terribly strenuous, why?"

"Well, I can't be doing anything back-breaking, I'm afraid. And I'm not sure how long I'll be able to work for you.."

"Sherlock, is everything alright? You're starting to worry me, kid."

"Everything's fine.. Well, I'm pregnant..."

"... You're-"

"Pregnant, yes. I found out after John left. I'm almost three months along, actually."

"Oh, congratulations, Sherlock! Of course I won't make you do anything difficult. You tell me your limits, and I'm not going to give your job away, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yes, thank you so much, Greg. It's a weight off my shoulders. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Eight in the morning, bright and early."

"Will do."

 

**11 p.m.**

 

She had promised herself a full night of rest, but Mrs. Hudson had come up with homemade soup, forcing her to eat for the baby, and Mycroft had stopped by with an updated list of obstetrician appointments. By the time she had eaten and been able to fully relax, it was past ten, and it was eleven by the time she was laying in bed. She held her stuffed bear, wearing one of John's t-shirts. With pushed-away anxieties over her first day of work, Sherlock fell asleep.

 

**July 21- 6:30 a.m.**

 

Sherlock had to wake up in time for a healthy breakfast and cursed at herself when she couldn't get down anything more than some orange juice and toast. With it settled in her stomach, she hopped in the shower, morning sickness taking over.

"I thought this was supposed to be over by now," she muttered to herself.

Out of the shower, she stood in front of her closet in just a towel, shaking her head. "Purple or navy blue? Which is more professional?" she asked herself, imagining John there to tell him his opinion (which was always the purple shirt), and picked navy blue after some hesitation, dressing in her standard black pencil skirt, button up, and tight suit jacket. Buttoning up the black jacket, she sucked in her breath, groaning. Of course she wasn't showing yet, but Sherlock was beginning to feel bloated, which made it hard to button.

"Out the door, out the door," she mumbled, quickly scribbling 'clothes shopping' on her to-do list. She knew it wouldn't be long until her belly would deny the tight fitting shirts she owned now.

No later than 7:40 in the morning, she was out the door, in a cab, and heading to Scotland Yard for her first day of work.

 

**8:30 a.m.**

 

After rushing to the elevator, truly afraid of being late at her first day, she stepped into Greg's office. He stood up, grinning.

"Sherlock! Hey, I'm so glad you applied for the job. I get to work along with an old friend, so much easier than having to get used to someone new."

"Uh-huh.." She pushed back the feeling of being lightheaded and the persistent nausea.

"How is everything? How's John? And a baby?" Greg practically bombarded her with questions, being the personal guy he always was.

"I'm good, settled into a new place on Baker Street. John is fine, I had a Skype call with him last week.. He's feeling really homesick though. But the baby? Oh, just fine. Making me sick as ever."

"Pity, I'm sorry."

"It's fine.. So, work?"

So it went that Greg showed her to her new desk in his office, with the usual desk materials. He was explaining some filing work to her when his mobile went off and he answered it, smiling, nodding, and hanging up.

"There's been a murder, will you come with me?"

 

**10 a.m.**

 

Sherlock couldn't help but follow Greg into a cab and to a gruesome crime scene, something that she had always taken an interest in. The scene was terrible, blood spattering the walls and the corpse at least a day old in the suburban home. Greg led her upstairs and under the tape as she tried to push away the stomach cramps.

Her stomach began to churn even worse and she took a few deep breaths. Of course, that did the opposite of what she needed when all she inhaled was the decomposing middle aged man and Sherlock ran back under the tape, down the stairs, out the door and to the pavement, where she bent over to vomit almost violently.

When there was suddenly a hand rubbing her back, she almost swore it was John's, before turning to see Greg, and nearly crying at the disappointing discovery.

"Go home, Sherlock. Get some rest. I'll call later."

 

**1 p.m.**

 

After more throwing up and a nap with her cheek against the toilet bowl, Sherlock found herself curled up in bed, crying and listening to some voice recordings sent to her by John on her laptop, the pouring rain outside only background noise. This was all taking a dramatic toll on the poor woman.


	6. A Day In The Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly as the title says, a day in John's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, and there should be a chapter later in the week as well, this one is just a bit different, as it's in the perspective of John.

**July 28th- 6 a.m.**

 

John's alarm went off, bright and early, and he groaned, sitting up in the uncomfortable, metal framed bed. It was terrible, but he had gotten used to being in this bed rather than a huge, queen sized bed with a comfortable mattress and a dozen blankets. Standing, John pulled up the two think blankets and dressed in silence, before sitting on the edge of his bed and picking up a framed picture and kissing it softly. "Good morning, love. Sleep well?" he whispered. Everyone else had already filed out of the room.

John went to the bathroom shared with his other roommates and washed his face, combing through his hair before leaving for work.

He didn't particularly hate the work he did, taking care of injured soldiers and fixing them up, as well as diagnosing and treating men who had fallen ill. He had always wanted to be a doctor. But this was simply to pay off university debts, something his family couldn't do.

He hated the loud noises, the bloody men being rushed in, the crying and screaming, the ones who didn't leave the operating table breathing. He hated being so close to the battlefield.

He missed Sherlock.

 

**11 a.m.**

 

A man had been rushed in with a bullet wound to his shoulder, this was nothing new, but John did his best to patch him up with tender care. He went through the motions, thinking only of the work. It was the only thing that kept love off his mind.

 

**2 p.m**

 

Two more men had come in, injured. One was injured in the leg, and John predicted that he would be allowed to go home once it had healed a bit. And he couldn't help but be slightly jealous.

 

**5 p.m.**

 

Dinner was some comfort to John, allowing him to do one of his favorite things- enjoy a good meal. The canteen wasn't known for terribly delicious food, but it was something. Mondays were turkey and gravy nights, with canned green beans and white bread, with a cookie. He drank water every night.

One of his buddies came and sat next to him, patting him on the shoulder. "You're looking a little upset."

"I'm missing home and my girl," John said bluntly.

"I understand. How long do you have left?"

"Nine more months until my debt is paid and I'm free to go home."

"It isn't too long, Watson."

"It is when you have a baby on the way."

 

**8 p.m.**

 

"Package for John H. Watson!"

Those were the best words that John could hear some nights, knowing the only packages he received would be from Sherlock, and he hurried to the door to grab the cardboard box addressed to him, taking it back to his bed and sitting down, opening it.  The letter was on top, and he set it aside to read it last. Inside the box were some of his favorite chocolate chip biscuits, a package of mint gum, some crackers, trail mix, and a nice smelling bar of soap. Sherlock had included a small envelope at the bottom and went John opened it, a silver key slipped out with the letters '221b' engraved into it. He smiled and packed everything away, sliding the box under his bed. Everything smelled of Sherlock's perfume, enough for his eyes to water when he changed, tucking himself into bed and reading the letter.

'My dearest John,

            It  hasn't been long since we last talked, but I've been having a terrible time and I am simply writing to get my mind off of everything. I have been terribly sick, and my body is so sensitive. I started work with Greg yesterday, and he took me to a crime scene right off the bat, but the odor caused me to vomit and I was sent home. He's allowing me back to work tomorrow, but we will 'be more cautious'.

            I just miss you so much. The house is empty without you and I hate it here. I haven't unpacked the boxes with your things in them, and I am sure they won't be unpacked until your here again. Please, the bed is so cold. I know it's only been three months, but the scent of your clothes is wearing away. John, come home.

            I'll probably throw away this letter like I have with the others. I keep having nightmares about being told you won't come home. God damnit, John Watson, don't you dare let that happen. You're closer to the battlefield than you are telling me. Come home safe to me and this baby.

                                                    With the saddest love possible,

                                                                                       your dearest Sherlock.'

John's heart broke with each word written in Sherlock's writing and he turned off his lamp, curling up and sobbing until he fell asleep, dreaming only of the day he'd be able to return to his beloved fiancée.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think, and if this story is really worth continuing! Kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> Much Love,  
> Melatonintea. {Hailey}


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